<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Fretting by ShyVioletCat</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25820824">Fretting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyVioletCat/pseuds/ShyVioletCat'>ShyVioletCat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Feysand Drabbles [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:55:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25820824</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyVioletCat/pseuds/ShyVioletCat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt: can I ask for some fluffy feysand fretting over their sick child</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Feysand - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Feysand Drabbles [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1476176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fretting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div class="">
  <p>It felt like neither of them had slept in days.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Rhys cradled his daughter against his chest, walking with bouncing steps to try a soothe her. Nothing worked, still she cried. Feyre sat on the bed watching, a fierce worry in her eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s just teething, that’s what the healer said,” Rhys assured her, even though he had already said it more times that he could count. At the mention of the affronting cause of her pain Adelia cried out again. “It’s alright, my little one,” Rhys murmured.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her blue eyes looked up at him, her little brow furrowed. She looked so much like her mother in this moment that Rhys couldn't help but smile at her. Her lips quirked up as she smiled back, a thick line of saliva drooling from her open mouth.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Feyre sighed then said, “Tristan never cried like this when he got his teeth.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>That was true, but there was also the fact that Tristan was now four years old and they may have forgotten a few things over the years. As if summoned by his name Rhys heard soft footsteps making their way to their bedroom and then his son appeared in the doorway, wings drooping as he tiredly rubbed at his eyes with one hand and his blanket gripped in the other.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Is Delia ohh-ohh,” Tristan yawned, “okay?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, son. She’s just getting some new teeth and it’s hurting her,” Feyre explained.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Almost blindly Tristan made his way to his mother and she lifted him onto the bed, cradling him as best she could despite his size.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I just wanted to make sure,” Tristan said, his eyes already closing. “I don’t want her to be hurting.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Neither do we,” Feyre said as she brushed his dark hair away from his face. “But she needs to get teeth.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Tristan just hummed and then he was asleep in Feyre’s arms. The room was quiet for a few moments and that was when Rhys looked down and saw that Adelia had fallen asleep at some point in the conversation too. Rhys looked over at his mate, and they smiled at each other as they both held their children in their arms. Gently, Feyre eased Tristan down onto the bed and then laid down next to him. Rhys went around to his side of the bed and holding Adelia to his chest he willed away his wings before he laid down as well. He gently shuffled over, getting himself comfortable without waking the sleeping baby. He heard Feyre let out a breathy laugh, making him look over at her.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What?” Rhys whispered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Feyre pulled the blanket up over all of them, smiling. “I think we’re going to need a bigger bed.”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>